長簟迎風早,空城澹月華。
星河秋一雁,砧杵夜千傢。
節候看應晚,心期臥亦賒。
嚮來吟秀句,不覺已鳴鴉。
While a cold wind is creeping under my mat,
And the city's naked wall grows pale with the autumn moon,
I see a lone wild-goose crossing the River of Stars,
And I hear, on stone in the night, thousands of washing mallets....
But, instead of wishing the season, as it goes,
To bear me also far away,
I have found your poem so beautiful
That I forget the homing birds.